


Sleeping on Couches

by titlesarehardest



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: College AU, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strex Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4634337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titlesarehardest/pseuds/titlesarehardest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever claimed that College was easy. And the added complications of a falling apart family, relationship troubles, and a few illicit deals certainly don't make things any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Ricardo

The year was ending in its typical fashion. Ricardo had just ‘surprised’ everyone with the announcement that his final was optional for anybody passing the class, and that it would only be a three thousand word essay of the subject of your choice. It didn’t even have to be on history, you just had to submit three thousand written words that formed some sort of coherent story. Many of them would write and submit the paper just for the easy A. Most of them already had an A in the class. 

“Excuse me?” The polite British accent pulled Ricardo from whatever hole his mind had been wandering down, and he looked up in surprise. Christopher Rose (good student if lazy, distinctive accent, always has a clever quip) was standing at the other side of the table, fingers tapping against its surface. He took half a step closer. “I was wondering if you were still looking for a TA? I know that Vanessa’s graduating, and-” His voice trailed off questioningly. 

“Yes?” Ricardo blinked as he searched his brain. “Yes! Yes, as a matter of fact I am.” Vanessa had been his TA for almost as long as she had been at the school. Her leaving was rather tragic. “Were you interested in applying? I have to admit, I already have several applicants and I’m not really sure who to pick.” That was a lie. Ricardo had, as was typical of him when Vanessa didn’t remind him to do something, completely forgotten. As a result he had two weeks to either put adds up and start interviewing people (which would honestly frustrate him more than anything else), or he could just hire Christopher. The boy was a decent enough student, after all. And surely Ricardo could whip some productivity out of him. 

“I was.” The talk of other candidates simply seemed to motivate Christopher to try harder, and Ricardo hid a grin at the sudden determined tilt to the boy’s chin. “And I’ll be more than glad to-” 

“That’s great, you’re hired.” Ricardo cut off whatever Christopher was going to say, clapping a hand on Christopher’s back and almost sending the slight boy pitching forward. By the time Christopher had caught his balance and turned to splutter indignantly at the teacher, Ricardo was across the room. His laughter, along with a reminder to talk to Vanessa and a promise to send an email to her about Christopher’s appointment bounced back to the younger man, . He might even remember to actually send the email, if Christopher was lucky. 

* * *

Normally Ricardo would have stayed to speak with Christopher longer. But it was a Friday, and on Fridays the Vega family (at least, the legitimate ones) gathered for dinner and stilted conversation about the events of the week. Diego would prattle on about whatever robot he was designing or bit of coding he had just completed. Divina would talk about the new Finance teacher and how he was fundamentally inferior to whichever teacher she decided to prefer that week. Mr. Vega would talk about work or traveling or the latest deal his that he had been arranged. And they would all smile and pretend that Mr. Vega wasn’t going to be acting out the same scene on Saturday with the Santiago’s, and again on Sunday with the Mendez’s. 

All of Mr. Vega’s children, both legitimate and illegitimate, were perfectly aware of each other’s existence. They had all been attending the same private schools for years; the various missus’ met at least once a week to drink tea and swap stories. They had grown up going on play dates together and had never bothered pretending to be anything less than blood. But for their weekly dinner, they pretended to be the picture-perfect nuclear family. No one was sure why all three families didn’t just sit down together, but at this point it was tradition and there was little point to questioning it. 

True to form, Diego and Divina told their stories between bites of chicken cordon bleu like the food meant nothing to them, like it was simply a placeholder for when they couldn’t talk. Ricardo remembered being hungry. He remembered the time before his mother married Mr. Vega, before Mr. Vega was successful. He remembered going hungry on the weekends and hiding the bread from school lunches because there wasn’t always dinner at home. He remembered Mr. Vega stepping back into their lives. Ricardo had never bothered asking how his mother and father had reconnected; he just remembered being grateful that they always had groceries in the fridge. And they moved into a house where the air conditioning worked and the next thing Ricardo knew, there was a baby on the way and he was being enrolled in a private school. 

“Don’t you agree, Ricardo?” The teacher was jerked from his musings, caught off guard at being addressed by his father. 

“I was a million miles away, papa.” Ricardo laughed, having the good form to blush slightly. “Come again?” 

“I was commenting on how these two hooligans ought to find some sort of gainful employment.” Mr. Vega repeated, leaning back in his chair. “A bit of hard work never hurt anybody, right? It seemed to do you some good, after all.” The old man had a wicked gleam in his eye as he regarded his oldest child. Both Diego and Divina had sour looks on their faces, and Ricardo was reminded once again that the two had never wanted for anything in their lives. 

“No, I suppose it didn’t. But perhaps instead of forcing them to get jobs, you could just cut off their spending money.” The twins didn’t seem to like Ricardo’s suggestion any better, judging by the way Diego scrunched his nose. “Then they can choose whether or not they value their luxuries or their free time.” 

“I don’t know anybody in my grade with a job.” Diego huffed, like he was a sophomore in high school and not in college. And Ricardo couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I just hired a Christopher Rose from your grade, hermano.” He refrained from adding that he had started working in high school, and that most of Diego’s peers had too. “I’m sure McDonald’s is hiring, if you’re worried about qualifications.” Diego bristled as he always did when he felt a joke was being made at his expense, and he opened his mouth to retort. 

“Children.” Everyone at the table quieted and looked at Mrs. Vega, who rarely spoke during dinners. “Let’s be pleasant, please.” 

“Apologies, Mama.” Ricardo smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand, ignoring how thin it had become. Even thinner than when they had been at their poorest, when there had been hushed talk of sending Ricardo to a foster home - just until she could get back on her feet. And that was when Mr. Vega had swept into their lives. Before it could all go to hell. 

Diego’s eyes skirted over their mother, as if he could ignore the reality of her illness by simply avoiding acknowledging her as anything but the woman she was at her prime. Even though she hadn’t said anything, Divina looked down to her plate, and took another bite. 

“Christopher Rose?” She asked after a moment of silence, setting the silverware down again. “The British one, right? With the industrialist father? I heard he has quite the reputation at parties.” Divina’s eyes gleamed as they always did when she was gifting some particularly juicy bit of gossip. 

“He’s not even pitching for your team, sister.” Diego snorted, looking down to his plate now. 

“And how do you know that, brother? First hand experience?” Divina was only teasing, but Diego’s blush gave the answer away. “Brother!” The evening dissolved back into small talk about work trips and robots, and Ricardo squeezed his mother’s hand once more before excusing himself from the table. 

* * *

Upstairs his room was the same as it was when he left home. He really only checks it for sentimentality’s sake. The comforter spread across the bed was beginning to yellow around the edges from years of disuse. The books were kept dust free by Roslin, who had been with the family since a few weeks after they had moved into this house, when Mrs. Vega had caved and admitted that there was no way for her to keep the whole thing clean by herself and still watch after Ricardo. As Mrs. Vega’s heath had faded, Roslin had been joined by Anne and Marie. And soon Roslin was going to retire into one of the upstairs bedrooms, and another girl would be hired to look after her. 

A copy of Candide caught under his wandering finger, toppling to rest on the dark wooden floor. The orange paper cover was cracking in places, and he opened it to where a scrap of paper still marked the place he had ended after starting it for the umpteenth time. The paper interested him more than the book itself - a bit of a receipt from a diner he didn’t remember frequenting; an order for coffee and fries timed 3:08am. And why he had been in a diner at three am his senior year of high school with a copy of Candide was as lost to him as the memory itself. 

When Ricardo slipped on his coat, he placed the small book in the inside pocket, a mystery hidden from the rest of the world. And when he slipped out the front door it was without saying goodbye. His on-campus apartment would never match the luxury of the building he called home, but it was serviceable. Spacious and airy and done up in shades of white and brown. Stepping into it felt natural, even with the night sky pressing against the windows. Mrs. Vega had insisted on decorating, and she had managed to make it feel like an extension of the room in the manor. Same color scheme, same style of furniture. Natural without being forced. 

The teacher is the enigma in the room, his presence dark and weary against the clean lines of furniture as he left a trail of black and red clothes from the front door to the bathroom. And once his teeth were brushed and his pajama pants on, he wandered into the bedroom and collapsed, face first, into the bed. 

* * *

That night Ricardo dreamt of a soft British laugh that followed him down winding corridors with oxblood carpets. The doors to the right were locked, and the doors to the left led to walls of windows. It was nighttime, and there were no stars to pin the sky into place as it pressed against the old-fashioned plate glass. It was like staring into oblivion, and when the professor woke up to the watercolor light of early morning, he blinked and turned over and went back to sleep. 

The next time Ricardo woke up, it was noon and the sunlight was harsh against his eyes. For just a second he remembered being unsettled by something in the night, but the feeling quickly passed. It was nothing more than a memory of a dream, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things to be accomplished that day. And it seemed like the first thing to do would be send Vanessa an email about Christopher Rose. With a groan, the teacher rolled out of bed, shuffling to the kitchen only to find Caesar Santiago sitting on his counter, idly tapping away on a laptop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Ricardo](www.strexcorpsguardian.tumblr.com) belongs to Freedomconvicted  
> [Diego](www.themoreyoustrex.tumblr.com) (played at themoreyoustrex) belongs to [ Videntefernandez](www.videntefernandez.tumblr.com)  
> [Caesar](www.lucientsynthasis.tumblr.com) belongs to Goddess-in-Green  
> [Divina](www.mistress-strex.tumblr.com) belongs to Mistress-Strex  
> [Christopher](www.christopherrose-pa.tumblr.com) belongs so Christopherrose-pa


	2. Chapter Two: Christopher

Christopher’s dorm was empty when he got there. He was still slightly confused from his conversation with Professor Vega, but the words ‘you’re hired’ had definitely come out of the professor’s mouth, and that was all Christopher needed to start explaining to his parents why he would be taking a summer semester instead of coming home. If Alice could explain it by saying that she was the soccer captain and needed to stay for special training, then Christopher could say that he needed to stay to consult with Professor Vega. Both were complete bullshit, but their parents would smile and nod and tell them to have a good time at school. Then Mr. and Mrs. Rose would smile secret smiles of relief and plan a trip to go gallivanting across continental Europe. 

Christopher’s desktop background was a map with little red dots on all the places he had traveled as a child. Blue ones marked the additional places his parents had gone, leaving their children at home with a string of nannies and long distance phone calls that ended in a cut off “I love you”. The blue dots didn’t outnumber the red ones. No, the Rose’s had been very careful to make sure that their children were well traveled before the age of seven, and Christopher had three passports to prove it. But indicators of place were neither indicators of length of trip nor frequency of visit, and Christopher had been spent most of his life coming home to various women who taught him the languages from their homes. He had spoken six languages by the time he was thirteen. 

A few keystrokes brought up his academic email, and one email in particular perked his interest. It was a return letter from Strexbucks, whom he had applied to in a flurry of applications as he fished about desperately for a job and a reason to tell his parents he couldn’t go home. Without thinking, he began to draft an email telling Strexbucks that a better offer had shown up, and it wasn’t until he was reading back over for grammatical errors that he realized there was no reason to turn them down. Working for Ricardo probably wouldn’t pick up until the school year began, and while he certainly didn’t need the extra cash, it would be nice to start a checking account that his parents weren’t constantly monitoring. 

After deleting what he had typed, he wrote the training dates into his calendar, neat handwriting stark against the otherwise empty Saturday. And he had just a moment to breathe before the door flew open and Lucy all but tripped into the room, hair tangled around a red face. With a groan, she headed over to Christopher’s bed and collapsed, not even bothering to set the books in her arms down. He turned in his chair to raise a single eyebrow at the sweaty girl lying face down on the pile of books, before reaching over to raise a lock of hair from over her ear. 

“You doing okay there, Lulu?” The fond amusement was obvious in his voice, even if it was lacking in his blank expression. 

“Don’t call me Lulu, Chrissy.” The other student retorted, raising herself up on her elbows to pull the purple pashmina away from her face. “Why is it so damnably hot here? Why didn’t I stay where it was cool?” 

“And where was that, again?” Christopher knew the question would go unanswered. Lucy, with her eccentric wardrobe and hard to pin down accent, had avoided telling anybody where she was from for the last two years. Even Christopher, who generally knew when she was on her period by the sudden increase in sharp wit and snark, didn’t know. 

“I’m assuming you don’t have a party to go to tonight. Which means you’re on for studying for the Chem final.” Lucy pushed herself into a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed, kicking her feet idly as she tilted her head. 

“Actually, there’s this last minute get together that-” 

“Christopher Rose!” 

“What? I mean, it’s not like-” 

“Don’t you have a ‘B’ in Chem right now?” 

“Yes, and?” 

“A B, Christopher.” Lucy said the letter like it was a swear word, nose crinkled in disgust. “You could do so much better than that if you’d just study like a normal brainiac.” 

“Lucy.” Christopher sighed, knowing that the battle was already lost. There was no point in bringing up the fact that he didn’t want to be a normal brainiac. That he wanted to go out and party and get a major in something that was entirely unrelated to business, because these were the last few acts of teenage rebellion that he had before his life settled into exactly what his father had always planned for him. 

It was rather unfair and misogynistic that Alice couldn’t inherit the company. She had a passion for business that rivaled their father’s, and a competitive streak just like his. What Alice endeavored to do, she did. And she did it by crushing her opponents. Christopher had always taken after their mother; an academic, a dreamer, a schemer. He set plans into motion behind the scenes, preferring to let his enemies take down themselves. But Alice was there to get an art degree and marry. Christopher was there to learn the family trade. Nobody cared that he would much rather be earning a history degree and writing a thesis that would take him to Grad school. That he wanted to be professor or a writer or a researcher. 

Nobody cared what Christopher wanted. 

That statement had been a defining factor of his life since he was eight and his father made him play baseball instead of gymnastics. When he was picking electives in middle school, and then in high school. When he picked a college and a degree. It didn’t matter that Christopher was there on scholarship, all that mattered was that his spending money came from his father’s pockets. That was why getting a job would help him begin to break out of the mold his parents had made. Maybe he could begin to pursue something he loved, instead of what was dictated to him. 

* * *

They ended up in a coffee shop near the record store where Lucy worked. It was the only place that was open until two am within walking distance of the school, and Lucy didn’t want to lose her parking spot near her dorm. Christopher didn’t blame her. It was a long trek from the back of the lot to the dorms, and even though most people would be staying in to study for finals, a few would be making their way out into the world. That and Lucy’s lime green bug always made him feel incredibly conspicuous, and he didn’t particularly want to draw a lot of attention to himself while he was being a ‘normal brainiac’. 

The coffee shop was on the corner of Madison and Fifth, and there was no name posted above the door. Christopher would have loved to have worked there, but there never seemed to be any openings. When they were seeking help, it seemed that the news traveled by word of mouth within circles around which Lucy drifted and from which Christopher was firmly excluded. But the barista was friendly enough today, offering him a smile with a hint of teeth as she handed him a drink that was not the one he had ordered. Rather than say anything he took the two mugs to the back table, setting Lucy’s drink beside her as he settled into the opposite chair. 

From there the night dissolved into the sound of rustling pages and highlighters scraping across paper. Neither was prepared for Christopher, in a sleepy attempt to grab his mug, to nudge Lucy’s book which nudged her coffee and sent the mug tumbling into her gray pants. Suddenly they were both wide awake, scrambling to pick up the fallen mug and mog up the lukewarm spill that was slowly spreading towards Lucy’s backpack. An employee came around with a rag, and between the three of them they managed to save the books and the bag, but Lucy’s pants were beyond repair. The barista who helped them was the one who had messed up Chris’s order, and he briefly considered telling her, but she winked and smiled and Christopher could only offer a sleepy smile back before going back to help Lucy pack everything up. 

“I saw the look you were giving that girl.” Lucy chided as they trudged home, pulling her damp pants away from her skin every few feet. “And don’t even bother. She is way too young for you. Probably too young to have been working this late.” 

“I wasn’t - look, she -” Christopher trailed off with a sigh, knowing there was no point in arguing with Lucy when she had convinced herself she was right. Especially when she was right, like she was in this situation. “Fine. I promise not to flirt with the blonde, underage barista who doesn’t look underage and messed up my drink.” 

“Good. Now repeat back to me everything we reviewed about carbon bonding.” Lucy replied, switching topics smugly. With another sigh, Christopher spent the rest of the walk answering increasingly obscure questions, until he finally dropped Lucy off at her door, realized he didn’t want to head back to his dorm and face Eugene, and headed over to Adrian’s instead. 

* * *

Christopher woke up wrapped in Adrian’s arms, pleasantly sore and sticky from events that he was surprised to find he could remember in full detail. With a groan, he nudged the football player and demanded that he turn the sun off, so that Christopher could sleep. All Adrian did was laugh and make the smaller man sit up, carrying him to the bathroom to wash off the remainder of the night before. 

“What are you doing over the summer?” Christopher called, turning his head upside down to towel off his hair. He could smell the coffee that Adrian had made while he showered, and he shuffled into the other room with single minded determination. He took a minute to appreciate the athlete’s physique in the midmorning light; warm light playing off golden skin and hair, sleep pants pulled low to show off hipbones that led down to - mmm. It was enough to say that Adrian was an attractive man. 

“Going home. Doing some work.” The answer was accompanied by a shrug. “There’s a - ah. Look, Chris.” Adrian shifted so he was standing straight, reaching out to catch the smaller man by the waist and pull him close. “I really like you, you know? And I worry about what it is you get up to sometimes.” 

“Yes?” The word was clipped as Christopher pasted a smile onto his lips, creating distance by lifting the mug and and taking a too fast drink. The coffee was hot and bitter on his tongue, burning as it traveled down his throat. He pulled away entirely, coughing and successfully distracting Adrian from whatever soliloquy he had been about to go into. The business student didn’t want to hear confessions of love; not from Adrian, not at nine in the morning. Not from anyone at anytime, really. 

Later, thinking he was in the clear, he climbed up Adrian’s body and settled in his lap. Christopher could taste the coffee on the upper classman’s tongue, and his hands wandered down the muscles he had been admiring earlier as he tried to suck the flavor off. Then his hands wandered lower, tugging at pants strings and slipping inside. 

“I think - ah-” Adrian gasped, his hands grasping Christopher’s shoulders. “I want to be-e exclusive.” 

“I beg your pardon?” The smaller man sat up abruptly, pulling his hands away. ‘You want _what_ now?” 

“Exclusive.” Confusion pulled Adrian’s eyebrows tight as he straightened. “Look, I know we’re about to be separate for three months, but I worry about you. And I like you, a lot, and there’s no better time or way or-” 

“I have to go.” Christopher cut him off, climbing out of his lap. “I have to go right now.” His shirt was crumpled on the ground, and he pulled it on and started buttoning it, wrinkles and all. “Look, I’ll see you around, yeah?” His pants were near the door, his boxers already on. “Text me.” Christopher left, one shoe in his hand and one half on as he tried to figure out what, exactly, had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lucy](www.dark-owl-lucy.tumblr.com) belongs to Dark-owl-lucy  
> [Adrian](www.strexcorp-secret-service.tumblr.com) belongs to Strexcorp-secret-service

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://www.titlesarehardest.tumblr.com) is my tumblr! It's mostly just some writing things I find inspirational and references. Feel free to check me out.


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